The smile was ALWAYS there and he never stopped telling me
“Son, it is all about attitude...”
This story is about a World War II veteran who made and changed my life forever, my father.
William Morris Walker was born on Androscoggin Street in Gorham, New Hampshire on February 22, 1925. He was a North Country farm boy as my grandfather was a dairy farmer.
During the Great Depression my father always said, with his famous smile that “we never had much but your grandfather and grandmother always made sure we never went hungry”. They raised chickens, ducks & geese and sold the poultry, eggs and milk throughout the town – sometimes they gave it away as many folk “were in much worse shape than we were” he used to tell us. Then he would smile; kind of a wistful but happy smile.
When World War II began two of my father's older brothers, George and Raymond enlisted in the Army Air Corps and Army, respectively. Uncle George became a Master Sergeant and managed much of the bomber group efforts from Great Britain throughout the war.
Dad had to wait until he graduated from Gorham High School and before he did he had already enlisted. I know he was proud of me when I did the same thing in 1968 and had signed up for the Marine Corps before graduating from Exeter High School. We both cried when he took me to the airport for boot camp but we didn't really look at each other, guys didn't do that then. When I looked back at him as I walked to my gate, he smiled again; this time it was kind of a sad smile and almost like he didn't know what else to do this time.
Dad was in the Navy shortly after graduation and his first leave home was a joy to all, especially my grandmother. After all Dad was the youngest and “Billy” as she called him was her “baby”. Now that I am older and a father and grandfather I can imagine the pride combined with the fear she must have felt then. Every pictures of him with all the family and friends who came to see him have him with that same smile/grin from ear to ear in every photograph.
Let's pause for a moment. One of the reasons for this little story for the Veteran's Day issue is for that very same kind of feeling and to illustrate the need for more of Dad's lifelong attitude.
Right now I wonder if you the reader might pause and think for a moment about all of our veterans; past and present and also about their families too. Just in my lifetime we have sent our men and women off to Korea (Dad was called back into the Navy and was the senior radio operator on the USS Wisconsin during the Korean conflict), the Viet Nam War and almost uncounted other conflicts from the Caribbean, Europe and three times through and including our present Middle East engagements. Let's all pray to keep them safe, reach out to them if you see them in pain or anguish, lend them a hand if they need help. With all the messes we are watching and reading about today and everyday in the news it is more than the right time to just think of each other. Think of your family and friends with appreciation and care; do something nice for them because none of us will get through all that is to come alone – not anymore.
Now back to the story of that smile.
In May of 1944 Dad was sent to Orange, Texas to report aboard a newly built LCI (L) which stands for landing craft, infantry, large. She was to be commissioned and from 30 May 1944 onward she was the USS LCI (L) 996.
One of Dad's shipmates, Doc typed a long memory log of the next twenty months of their lives together. He wrote of their travels from Texas to San Francisco and their lives together through the South Pacific and back again. There were fifty nine men and six officers when they left Texas and their journey, as reported by Mr. Samuel P. Culviner, Lt. (jg) USNR, Commanding Officer was simply:
“Participated in the Okinawa Campaign aboard this vessel from 4-28-45 to its completion. Eligible to wear one (1) star (P34-1) on Asiatic Pacific Campaign Ribbon for this operation. Eligible for any other applicable award for service in the Okinawa Gunto Campaign and in the Ryukyu Islands, East China Sea, and Kushu, Japan during period from 4-26-45 to 12-16-45.
Participated in mine-sweeping operations off Kyushu, Japan 10 September 1945 to 26 September 1945.
Participated in mine-sweeping operations in East China Sea 26 October to 4 November 1945.
Participated in the Occupation of Japan. Eligible to wear World War II Victory Medal and Ribbon.”
This is how the Navy takes twenty months at sea together and describes “what happened” as this small band of sailors on a flat bottomed landing craft went through the dickens as they traveled over 36,000 miles during the war.
Doc's story tells much more and with a lot more “color” as he describes their antics and experiences as they sailed from the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco Harbor and traveled through the Canal Zone; San Diego, San Pedro, Long Beach, Pearl Harbor, Funafuti, Tulagi, Guadalcanal, Eniwetok, Guam, Saipan, Okinawa, Sasebo, Nagasaki and Kagoshima, Japan and back again. Through dive-bomber attacks, enemy submarine episodes, suicide boat attacks, minefields and the witnessing of the “results” of the war in Asia.
His memory log is full of the episodes of humor, sea sickness, shore duty shenanigans and the building of brotherhood among the men “representing 28 of the 48 states and Washington, D.C. Ohio with a home record total of seven is home to the highest number of the sixty five men who have served aboard the 996. New York and Pennsylvania are tied with six each and Michigan claims five.”
There are graphic stories and pictures too of the ceremonies as they passed into Davey Jones' territory and His Royal Majesty Neptunus Rex held court as the “pollywogs” (sailors and seamen who had yet to cross the Latitude 00-00, Longitude 174 degrees 35 minutes in this case) were initiated into the ranks of “Solemn Order of the Ancient Order of the Deep” to become “One of Our Trusty Shellbacks”. There is an even more “enjoyable” episode when the 996 and crew crossed the 180th Parallel and everyone was inducted into the “Silent Mysteries of the Far East”.
The 996 and crew were in Guam on Sunday the 15th of April 1945 where they held their own memorial services at 1000 hours for the departed Commander-In-Chief, Franklin D. Roosevelt. Doc writes that “Captain Janeway gave a short address of tribute to the late President and Master at Arms Mather read from the scriptures. All flags were at half mast.”
The place in Doc's writings where I connected best was his reference to my father here.
“Now for the radio shack where poor Bill “Sparks” Walker and that personage Jack Herbert Clement “Clem” held forth. We say poor Bill because his ears will never be the same after some of those messages he received and after all of Clem's poems he had to listen to. The high spot of the radio shack was Mrs. Walker's delicious cookies that arrived regularly from New Hampshire throughout the war, along with other rarities and delicacies such as candy and jellies. The radio shack was a stamping ground for all the officers and crew when any important news was supposed to be in the offing. We nearly drove Bill and Clem mad. Bill turned to books and collected movie star posters.”
I found out about all this with a great deal of surprise however after my Dad died. He never spoke of the war much while I was growing up. I do have three of the “pin ups” he collected during the war. One each of Shirley Temple who wrote, “To The Radio Gang of the USS LCI (L) 996, Love, Shirley Temple”; of Gloria DeHaven, “To The Radio Gang, Best of Luck, Gloria De Haven”; and of Esther Williams, “To the Radio Gang, Best Wishes, Esther Williams”.
He passed away September 6, 2001. We had his services just a few days before 9/11. I am glad in a way he didn't see that and hasn't had to witness the mess the world is in today and now we get to the meat of my story.
This small town boy, just like hundreds of thousands if not millions of others like him came home from the war all grown up. He went back to Gorham and tried his hand at farming, which he loved but couldn't make a living at. He tried auto mechanics and things were going better with this. Somewhere along the way he met, dated and married my mother. They spent a couple of years there while I was born and then the Korean Conflict hit.
Dad was called back in like thousands of other veterans while my mother took me to live in Greenwich, Connecticut with Dad's older sister and her husband. Dad never talked about this time away either. When he came home Dad took advantage of what we all know changed the face of our country for the homecoming vets – the GI Bill. Dad went to Manchester, New Hampshire to the business school and studied accounting.
When he graduated he began what was to become the rest of his life, he was now an accountant. His smile in his graduation picture this time is full of happiness and expectation.
The next fifty nine years he would smile and work his way through raising four of us with Mom.
He would lead us to church and Sunday school (of course he had perfect attendance through eight grades and then high school in Gorham – always reminded me of this when I resisted); he would be my scout leader, my coach for baseball, football and he taught me to drive, balance my budgets and he gave me a quote when I graduated from high school myself.
He took me quietly aside and made me stand still (it was the summer of '68 and Hampton Beach was waiting). He took me gently by the shoulders and looked me in the eyes. He said, “Son, always do right.” Then he let me go – for the rest of my life – with that smile.
So, to all you veterans and families of veterans or their neighbors, their friends and their acquaintances; remember all these citizen sailors, soldiers and guardsmen and women this year.
And veterans, “always do right” and use that strength you have to make it a better world.
Oh, and smile. That’s what my hero did.
